by Lola Gabriel
“Are we messing everything up?” she asked. “Are we a disaster?”
“Sort of.” Rowan kissed the top of her wet head. “But also, no. We’re fixing things. My pack, we’ll be stronger for this, for you. And hopefully your family will learn. And we’re making a family.” He looked down at her. Holly took the soap and rubbed where he was still marked.
“But we’re messing up a lot of happy lives. Eve and Xander, even…”
“This is being part of a pack,” Rowan said. “You know that.”
“Am I a part of this pack now?” Holly asked. “I didn’t know how to phrase it while I was speaking… I felt off center.”
“Yes,” Rowan replied. “Of course you are. Of course. If I could be, I’d be a part of your pack, too. A pack is an extension of family.” He stepped away from her, and she kept soaping him up. The blood had dried on him, and she had to get it off.
“Okay,” she murmured. “I wish you could be part of my family. I know they seem like monsters… and I mean, my brother is awful. But my mother and father love me. I had fun as a child, playing in the mountains with all the other shifter kids. Until I was a woman, that is. In their eyes.”
“I’m sorry,” Rowan mumbled. “We’ll do better.” He placed a hand on her stomach, below her bellybutton. “They’ll be so well adjusted.”
Holly laughed. “Like anyone ever is! But… maybe better. Different.”
Rowan kept his hand there. “I can tell, I think.”
“You cannot,” Holly argued, but she put her hand on top of his. On the wolf shifter timeline, they were a quarter through, at least. It wasn’t`impossible. Besides, it was nice to have their hands both there, as if they could protect what was inside that easily. They stayed like that, under the hot water, for a couple of minutes.
“Do you have things to do?” Holly finally asked. Rowan almost shook himself.
“Yes!” he said. “I do. Like, five minutes ago.” He opened the shower door and stepped out, and she turned the water off and followed suit. He was drying himself, but he wrapped her in the towel, too, drying her hair and back. She laughed and pushed him away.
“This is a serious time!”
He hid under his towel. “I was being entirely serious.”
“Save this nonsense for the kid,” Holly chided him, grabbing a towel, and he kissed her neck quickly as she dried herself, told her he loved her, and then left the room, dressing for his meeting with the council, she assumed.
Holly took her time, drying her hair, moisturizing, and putting a dress and a sweater on. She tied her hair in a bun and thought about makeup, but then she remembered how much she’d been crying lately. To her surprise, when she finally got downstairs, Miriam was in the kitchen with Eve and Xander. She was holding Chloe, watching the baby play with a plush penguin.
“Hi!” Holly greeted her. “What—?”
Miriam looked at her. “We need to keep you safe, Holly.”
“Right…” Holly agreed or stated. She was unsure.
“Someone painted things on Miriam’s door,” Eve said. “Bad things.”
Holly was aware she wasn’t supposed to ask, but it slipped from her mouth all the same. She had a right to know. “What? What did they paint?”
Miriam turned to her. She had also been crying.
“She said. “‘Animal,’ ‘freak,’ ‘half-breed.’”
“Oh…” Holly stopped in the doorway. She felt it. She felt a protective pang, an anger she had not been capable of feeling before. “Right. Miriam, I’m sorry…”
“It isn’t a matter of that,” Miriam said. “And of course, you needn’t be.” She was bouncing the baby, who was having a grand time, laughing and gumming her toy. “But in just a couple of hours, we’ve had all these… well, they’re attacks. They could easily escalate. We need to keep you safe until this is over.”
“What do you mean?” Holly demanded, her hackles raised by the phrasing.
“She means we need to hide you, Holly,” Eve answered, “keep you away from people who might want to hurt you. Hurt you and your baby.”
“I’m fine here,” Holly replied. She didn’t want to be anywhere but here or maybe at Miriam’s. There had been enough changes in the last few days.
“I’ve taken a cot to the church,” Xander said. “You can stay in the antiroom downstairs. Just until this blows over.”
Involuntarily, Holly’s fists clenched.
“Blows over?!” she yelled. “This is all my fault! I’m not letting it just pass me by! This is your pack fighting my pack! Or, is this my pack now? Either way, it’s my family! Both sides are my family…!”
Eve clearly had tears in her eyes. She came to Holly and put her hands on her elbows.
“I know it’s hard,” she said. “But this isn’t just for you.”
Holly bit back tears and turned away for a second. She took some deep breaths.
And then, the commotion.
There was shouting outside, a loud knock on the door that set Chloe screaming. Xander went to answer.
“It’s happening!” the kid on the doorstep announced breathlessly. “They’re coming tomorrow. They sent someone. Get ready to go out tonight.”
“We’ll send him to you when he’s back, Holly,” Eve said. “We’ve got to go. He’ll bring your stuff.” Eve put her in a wooly hat and one of Xander’s coats. It was getting dark, so maybe the ridiculous half-disguise would work.
It was only when they got to the church that they realized Rowan had the only key to the small door beneath the stairway.
“Just stay here,” Eve instructed her, bundling Holly into the spiral staircase. Holly felt ridiculous watching her leave, and it seemed like she was there for hours, just getting colder and colder while a half-volume chaos unfolded outside.
Eventually, Holly curled up on the incredibly uncomfortable stairs, thinking she might sleep or nap for a few minutes at least.
That was when the church doors opened. In the dark, she couldn’t see who it was. She crept fully around the lip of the stairs’ doorway for a better look.
The man was shaking the handle to the little door. It was hard to know for sure, but Holly was almost certain. Quietly, she stepped out from the doorway. She grabbed one of his wrists and twisted it behind his back.
Dylan screamed.
“What are you doing?” Holly demanded. “I thought you weren’t going to tell?”
“I was just checking,” Dylan said, “what was going on.” He kept making sad, moaning noises.
“Who for?” she asked. She felt him shrug, and she tugged at him again. She had both of his wrists now. Dylan cried out in pain.
“I just… a lot of people are unhappy!” he said. “They want details. They don’t think this is in the best interests of the pack.”
Holly tugged him backward toward her. “That includes you, does it?”
“I don’t know!” Dylan whimpered. “I haven’t told anyone about the church, I swear!”
Someone else had come through the front doors. A flashlight half-blinded Holly, and she cursed.
“Holly!” Rowan ran toward her. “Jesus, Hol, you shouldn’t be tackling people!”
“He shouldn’t be trying to break in anywhere!”
“I agree,” Rowan said. He pulled off his belt, undoing it with one hand, and wrapped it around Dylan’s wrists. Holly stepped back, panting slightly. “This is getting so complicated,” Rowan muttered. “The key is in my pocket, the right one. Can you unlock the door, Hol?”
Holly reached into his pants’ pocket and found the large key, and he directed his flashlight at the door. She worked the lock until it creaked open and clicked on the light, then stayed upstairs while Rowan rather carelessly bumped Dylan down the wooden staircase.
“Lock the door behind you,” he called up to her. She entered and locked the door. Rowan had flung Dylan to the floor in a move more violent than anything she had ever seen or ever wanted to see from him.
“I’m sorry,�
� he told her, “but you’re going to have to stay down here a couple of nights. Eve is right. My mom is right. Everyone is after you; your people, a bunch of my people… I know it’s not right, and it’s going to be hard, but you need to stay safe.”
Holly wanted to fight him. She wanted to hit him and argue. But he was right. Eve and Miriam were right. She was a bargaining chip at this point—the main bargaining chip.
“What are you doing with him?” she asked, gesturing to Dylan.
“Tying him up somewhere until this is over,” Rowan answered, “and then giving him to his brother.”
Dylan was silent now, barely bothering to wriggle.
“Look,” Rowan said. “That door locks from the inside.” He nodded at the door to the smaller room. “And I have the key to the upper one. If something happens to me, Xander, Eve, or Isaac will get it. Okay?”
Holly didn’t say anything. She refused to acknowledge the idea of anything happening to him.
“Holly,” he urged. “Please?” Holly nodded her head.
“For the record,” she said, “this is for the baby. Or I would be out there with you, okay?”
Rowan smiled the saddest smile.
“I know,” he said. “Of course.” He walked to her, held her, and kissed her. “You’re doing this for us. Thank you. And I love you.”
Holly kissed him back harder. “I love you. And you’re going to talk to my dad, right? Tell him you love me, tell him I’m sorry… tell him we just want to talk.”
“Yes, of course, to all of that,” Rowan assured her. They held one another, hard, one last time, and then Rowan left. He looked ahead of him up the stairs and not back at her. He was dragging his friend, Dylan, by his belted fists.
Holly heard the key turn in the lock. Everything had changed so fast that she could hardly believe it.
19
Rowan
Leaving Holly down in that basement had been the hardest thing Rowan had ever had to do. But there was no other real choice. He kept telling himself that. It wasn’t as though he’d locked her down there like some fairytale princess; she’d agreed to it. She had not been happy, but she’d agreed it was for the best. Everyone was after her—it was a matter of protecting her, or, well, protecting her in the long run: them, their family, their pack. Because this was her pack now, too.
They had been flanking the widest open space near the city for hours before anything happened. Rowan was among them, and he was thinking about going to see Holly and eat something warm, call in another shift, when they began to appear. They came in a light colder than a witch-light, though still clearly an enchantment. They arrived in groups. They were organized somehow, though it was unclear how, and carrying packs that probably contained spare clothes, blankets, medical supplies…
The incoming shifters didn’t appear to see them hiding in the dark around the edges of the huge clearing. Rowan was waiting for one arrival only. Holly had shown him a picture of her father and her brother on her phone. He was anxious about recognizing them. He barely bothered to wonder whether Isaac and Xander were doing their jobs and running into town to raise the alarm for everyone else, though he obviously he trusted them to.
It was beginning to snow a little, heavy flakes that promised a coating later. Maybe that would give the Alaskans the advantage. Still, Rowan didn’t want to think of war. He was hoping to talk to Eric. He didn’t know quite what he would say. He was hoping it would come to him, some way to appeal to him as a father, as someone who loved Holly.
He was becoming stiff, crouching in the snow, watching. He had a flare, the signal to go, but he wanted to walk out alone, in human form, to talk to Eric—alpha to alpha, to put it in its most warlike language.
And then, there they were: Eric and Arlan, stepping out of the blue light together.
Rowan stood. He held a palm behind him, in case any of his people were watching. Not yet. He knew they were tense, and the others were beginning to gather in the trees, too; everyone who was ready to fight. He hoped there wouldn’t be a fight.
Rowan was only halfway to Eric when Arlan noticed him. Arlan was walking fast toward him. Marching, almost, his chest out. Rowan made sure to keep his pace steady and not seem eager to fight or hot-headed. But this didn’t seem to discourage Arlan. He was steaming at the nostrils when they met, breathing hard.
“What?” Arlan demanded. “You’ve come to talk?”
“Yes,” Rowan said, “to your father. And to the alphas of the other packs involved, if I have to. Can you let me pass?”
Arlan was bigger than Rowan, spreading himself as wide as possible.
“Get past me,” he said.
“No, Arlan, I want to talk to your father.”
Arlan laughed. “You don’t get that privilege. You stole his daughter away. Kidnapper, that’s what you are. Seducer.”
Rowan wanted to laugh, but something took him over. Even though he had no intention of doing it, suddenly, he had headbutted Arlan. When the bigger man looked up, his nose was streaming with blood. The snow was falling heavier, and where it was settling on the sparse grass, it was turning red with Arlan’s blood.
Eric was walking quickly to his son’s side, but Arlan had already thrown a punch that connected with Rowan’s cheekbone. Rowan grabbed blindly, and the two of them started rolling around, too busy fighting to even think of shifting. Rowan felt Arlan’s teeth closing on him, and he ripped at Arlan’s hair, pulling his head back. There was a family resemblance: his freckles, the bridge of the nose, his big green-brown eyes. Rowan let go and tried to push Arlan off.
“Stop!” he said. “Stop, I don’t want to fight you!” Arlan kept grabbing at him until Eric pulled his son off, catching his coat at the shoulder and yanking.
“This is not how it’s done!” Eric roared, hardly the quiet man Holly had described. Eric stood in the falling snow, his breath coming thick and white, his beard gathering crystalline flakes. His son was behind him, scrabbling to his feet, and some friends were coming toward him to help.
“So,” Eric said, “it’s you?”
Rowan nodded. “Yes,” he said. “And you’re her father?”
“I am,” Eric replied. He had his hands in his pockets. “And I’ve had to fight to be the one in charge of this here army. What do we have to give you to get her back?”
“What do you mean?” Rowan asked, feeling his cheekbone, which was already swelling up. He would have to shift to fix the injury. It felt bone deep.
“What will it take,” Eric repeated, stepping slightly closer, “for you to give her back to us?”
Rowan shook his head and laughed a little, though it hurt. “You think this is a business deal? We’re imprinted, there’s no exchange here—”
At this, Eric turned back to his son, who was surrounded by a few friends. The posted pack members were emerging from the trees. It wouldn’t be long until everyone else turned up. Rowan was feeling antsy. He needed this conversation to be happening quicker.
“What did he tell you?” Rowan demanded, looking at Arlan. “He tried to grab her, and she didn’t want to be taken back. What did he say?” He had to hold himself back from squaring up to Eric.
“He said you’d turned her against us,” Eric said. “Said you had her wrapped around your little finger. That you took her in Seattle, that morning.”
Now Rowan really laughed. “Have you met your daughter? Ever seen her wrapped around anyone’s little finger?”
Eric looked at the ground for a moment and then back up at Rowan.
“You’re saying you imprinted?” he asked, disbelieving.
“I know.” Rowan nodded. “But it means something. We aren’t so different, Eric…” He took a breath, knowing this was a gamble. “She’s pregnant. You’re going to be a grandfather.”
Eric looked shocked. “What?”
Arlan was close enough to hear. He’d been cleaned up by his goons and on his way toward them.
“Bullshit!” he shouted. “There won’t be a
ny halflings in my family.”
That was when the far side of the clearing began to shift; Arlan first, and then his friends, and then everyone behind them. What could the Anchorage shifters do but react in kind?
It was incredible how quickly blood and fur flew everywhere. Holly had been right to tell them to surround the clearing. The wolves were fast, but the bears were bigger, heavier. They would have been destroyed, but they could close in their circle. A bear ripped the tail off a wolf, and the tail lay in the snow like its own creature, spitting blood and then seeping it. Bears were being jumped at. At least, however, they could see what was happening. For now, in any case, it was all in front of them. Their heavy paws were working, though it wouldn’t stay that way.
Rowan knew it, but he couldn’t do much to command anymore. The angrier a shifter grew, the wilder they got, the more animal. He could concentrate on little more than Arlan, who had leapt for his throat as soon as he had shifted. Rowan held him to the ground for a while, his paw to Arlan’s snout, but he couldn’t keep it up, not with Arlan’s friends leaping at him. As his paw was pulled away, he made sure his claws made a mark, drawing multiple streams of blood, just missing Arlan’s eye. Arlan pulled back his lips, blood smearing his yellow fangs. He backed up, ready to pounce. And then, in the middle of them, stood a huge gray wolf, growling from one to the other. Eric, of course.
Rowan, for a moment, thought this would stop it, calm things down. He looked around. There was red in the settling white everywhere now. Big, brown, blond-flecked Xander was on the ground with a gash on his neck. This got Rowan tense again—furious. And it turned out Arlan didn’t care about his dad blocking them. He leapt over him, bloody teeth bared, coming for Rowan. Rowan barely had time to lift a paw to protect himself, and roll heavily, getting used to his bear shape as he always had to.
